


premonition (see me spending every night with you)

by bonebreak



Series: in the night (she hears it callin’) [7]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, Late at Night, Love Confessions, M/M, they are just in love ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-15 01:57:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18488941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonebreak/pseuds/bonebreak
Summary: It’s the unspoken words that make the spoken ones that much more meaningful.





	premonition (see me spending every night with you)

**Author's Note:**

> all i know how to write is jeno being in love with donghyuck... so that is what this is for the millionth time!!!!
> 
> title taken and heavily insp by dance to this by troye sivan :]

It occasionally slips Jeno’s mind, how celestial Donghyuck can look in the artificial light of their shared kitchen. It is not the light that is significant in any way, rather cheap and screwed into place carelessly, but the one it illuminates. It could be from how the yellow bulb seems to direct every one of its flickering rays right onto honeyed skin, setting his body aflame in the most magnificent of ways, even underneath the mussed head of chocolate brown hair and worn shirt threatening to slip off his frame. Or it is because of Jeno’s love goggles, the adoration amplified tenfold by the exhaustion that came with being awake just before dawn came. All he knows for sure is that with the way Donghyuck’s eyelashes are fluttering against his cheekbones from his drowsiness, he can’t get enough of it. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he bites, but Jeno knows better—knows he’s bashful and hiding a rosy blush underneath the hostility. He hangs his head down to hide it further, soft tufts of hair drooping down to cover his embarrassment. Without his face in the light, the flame diminishes to nothing but a smoky heat and Jeno craves to see it again. With Donghyuck’s suggestion, there is a moment of consideration and contemplation about the whereabouts of his camera. Ultimately he decides against it, knowing fully well that the lense could never capture a moment with Donghyuck right. He wasn’t even sure if he had the capacity to interpret the boy sitting before him in a way that makes sense, in a way that would encapsulate his entire being. 

To Jeno, Donghyuck is a dancing fire knowing only its one purpose of spreading wherever it can reach and beyond. It is Jeno who is so fortunate to be lit up, caught in the reckless path of Donghyuck waltzing in at ungodly hours dressed in bruises and blood. He considers himself fortunate to be swallowed up in the flame Donghyuck wielded with his very being. 

Jeno strides forward until he is right up against the edge of the cool marble island that Donghyuck is seated upon. He places himself snugly between the other boy’s knobby knees adorned with bandages too small for the scrapes they are meant to be protecting, his hands on the countertop on either side of him. Craning his neck, he catches the finer details: the scatter of moles along an expanse of skin that seems holy, sacred; dips and indentations on skin from the anxious and constant picking at scabs even he forgets the origins of; a faint dusting of crimson across cheeks kissed with shyness; the lips that part just enough for a smile to peer out into the world. The angle, for Jeno, is new. It all comes together under the near buzzing light of the bulb above them in such a way to compose something so utterly Donghyuck, Jeno has to brace for impact upon seeing. 

“I think I love you,” his voice breaks through his own trance, words trespassing into open air. Riding on his unabashed bravery, he curls an arm around Donghyuck’s waist and gazes at him with such intensity the brown haired boy has to glance away at something less interesting, a stain on the wall. 

“Of course you do,” he says simply. And that is all he says. Jeno is satisfied.

The radio on the counter hums, forgotten background noise suddenly turning back into focus as it crackles into a song meant only for their ears in the late hours of a night belonging to them. All the nights are theirs. Jeno reminds Donghyuck its their song. Donghyuck challenges him with a smile. 

Through the low purr of their cheap radio playing on the kitchen counter, Jeno can still make out the hitch of Donghyuck’s breath as he wraps his arms around him a little tighter and lifts him off the counter in one fluid motion. He relishes the time in which Donghyuck’s smaller, warmer frame is pressed against him as he sets him down onto the linoleum below them and how, under bruised knuckles, fingers grip at his upper arm. He relishes in the feeling of being relied on, in being the only person Donghyuck allows himself to be vulnerable around. If Jeno was anyone else, he would likely have a broken nose by now. 

Jeno takes Donghyuck’s hands in his own. These hands know pain, know blood belonging to too many to count, and yet they feel gentle in his hold. They grip his own hands like a lifeline.

Their very souls intertwine as their fingers do the same. Smiles synchronize like their steps and their hearts beat the same familiar rhythm. They become one unit, floating around on the kitchen tile in the way a figure skater might glide along ice. Though, all it takes is one poorly executed turn which results in a laughing mess on the floor and nothing matters but them. Not even the certainty of the rest of their floor waking or scolding them can chase away the rush of bubbling joy and Jeno knows then that there is no other way he would rather be spending every waking moment. 

The kitchen light flickers one last time before sizzling out with one last fighting spark and Jeno will most definitely have to deal with buying a replacement later, but he allows himself to be distracted for this fleeting moment they have together before the sun greets them Donghyuck must run off again. He does that a lot—run off. 

Jeno turns his head towards the other boy as he waits for his eyes to adjust. Through the subdued light of the moon through the window curtains, Jeno can still see every perfect imperfection of Donghyuck. He looks like a painting laying there on Jeno’s kitchen floor and he feels himself falling deeper. 

Donghyuck’s calloused hand comes up to cup Jeno’s cheek and he melts into the touch. The juxtaposition of how such a rough hand, that is more than familiar with landing punches and knocking grown men out, is now sending him waves of comfort and love makes him chuckle slightly and he turns his head to place a kiss against Donghyuck’s clammy palm. 

Donghyuck’s hand shies away at the press of Jeno’s lips, but he scoots over toward him anyway. The short distance between them is reduced to nothing in just a fraction of a moment and Jeno’s arms wind around the boy in front of him protectively. It’s not a physical protection, that is something Donghyuck is more than capable with handling. This is more of a reminder that Jeno was there and always would be. After every bruise, cut, and black eye, after every long night, they would find one another. There was only one home Donghyuck knew. 

Donghyuck’s own arms find purchase around Jeno. They lay there on the floor of their kitchen and listen to nothing but their mingling heartbeats and the faulty radio that is half static. 

Donghyuck never says he loves him back. Jeno doesn’t really think he needs to hear it. 

**Author's Note:**

> jeno is a uni student and donghyuck is a street fighter. they are roommates (gasp they are roommates!) and in luuuuv
> 
> one of these days i'll write an actual longfic for nohyuck, but for now... this! and i have a noren oneshot coming up... very exciting.
> 
> thanks for reading!!! comments and kudos are always appreciated. feel free to stop by my [cc](https://curiouscat.me/guanhengs) or my [twt](https://twitter.com/renhyuks)!!! i do not bite. let's be friends!!!!!


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